Last Man Standing
by Abberz the Awesome
Summary: Have the courage to live. They were my family. Death fic, no pairings, T because I'm parinoid.


**A/N: The muse is haunting me again. Inspired by the story "Alone" by CSIGurlie07, but certainly not a sequel or companion piece. Lots of death. And I absolutely love, love, LOVE this quote. Is that morbid of me?**

**Disclaimer: Don't own. **

Last Man Standing

_Have the courage to live. Anyone can die._

_-Robert Cody_

* * *

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. They weren't supposed to die. Nobody was. Everyone should live. Our world was supposed to be sheltered, a land of magic where the bad guys always caught.

Or at least that's what a certain curly haired medical student thought.

Or at least that's what he thought before.

* * *

This morning was normal for Jimmy Palmer. He had class this morning so Dr. Mallard gave him the morning off. He went to class, avoided falling asleep, and got in his beat-up pickup and headed back to NCIS. He quickly headed down to the morgue, but was surprised to see it empty. He quickly changed into scrubs and headed up to the bullpen. Also empty. The must have gotten a case. Desperate for companionship, he headed down the Abby's Lab to make himself useful.

He followed the sound of techno/rock music and was quickly pulled into a hug when he was off the elevator.

"Jimmy, Jimmy, JIMMY! How was class?"

Jimmy staggered backwards.

"Uhh, good?"

"Yeah Jimmy!"

"Abby, where is everybody?"

"Oh yeah. There was a dead Petty Officer at Rock Creek Park. Remind me never to be a Petty Officer and get stationed around there."

"Sure thing, Abbs."

Jimmy sat down at the desk.

"I'll just wait here with you. Just tell me if you need anything."

"Okay Jimmy!"

* * *

A few hours later Jimmy woke up to Abby's frowning face above him.

"JIMMY!"

He jumped up, dropping his glasses and them fumbling to his knees to pick them up again.

"JIMMY! They left hours ago, where are they."

Jimmy picked up his glasses adjusting to the scene in front of him. Abby was lying down on her desk with her head over the edge, her pigtails hanging to the ground.

"I'm sure there's an explanation Abby. Did you try calling them?"

"Who do you think I am Jimmy? Of course I did… 20 times each!"

Just then Vance's voice went over the intercom.

"Miss Scuito, Dr. Palmer? Can you come to my office for a second?"

Abby and Jimmy looked at each other and ran to the elevator.

They went into the director's office, not stopping to chat with his assistant. They busted the door open. Vance began to speak calmly:

"Sit down."

Abby began to speak loudly. "What the hell is up? Where's Gibbs? Timmy? Tony? Ziva? Ducky? Why I oughta-"

Jimmy interrupted Abby's rant. "Tell us what's up."

Vance looked down. "There was an accident at the crime scene. Our murderer planted a bomb."

Abby gasped. "OMIGOD! Are they okay?"

Vance sighed. "I'm sorry. Help came… too late."

Abby gasped again and Jimmy pulled her into a hug. He bit his lip and tried to stop himself from crying. He needed to be strong for Abby.

Abby…

She was sobbing and wailing into his shoulder. Jimmy took control of the situation.

"Were all the bodies positively identified?"

Vance nodded. "DNA and fingerprints. Of course we'll send everything down to Miss Scuito if she wants to check it?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Autopsies?"

"The bodies are being sent here as soon as Agent Balboa's team finishes the crime scene. You okay with doing the autopsies?"

"Yes sir."

"You are dismissed."

Jimmy led Abby out in front of him and let one tear slide down his face.

* * *

The autopsies were weird.

Not gross or emotional. Just awkward.

Gibbs' eyes were closed, calm and accepting.

Tony's face was screwed into a look of pain, and angst. No wise-crack or smile.

Ziva' looked vulnerable; the report said she was found curled into a ball, tears down her face.

McGee looked brave; his eyes still open and piercing green into his soul.

And Ducky, his mentor, like the dad he never had, was silent for the first time in his life.

Jimmy worked on auto pilot, silently measuring and cutting, all the while having some random Probie take notes.

Scratch that. McGee was Probie.

This was just an agent.

To Jimmy there were no more Probies.

He finished and washed his hands and, for good measure took a shower and changed his scrubs. He then went to Abby's lab and curled up on a futon, falling asleep.

* * *

Funerals were attended, people were buried.

Cases were assigned to the acting MCRT.

The Boss, Special Agent Bob Green—strong and silent

Senior Field Agent, Special Agent Horace Parker—a playboy

And Junior Field Agents, Ashley MacDonald—geek, and Fiero Binx—kick ass street fighter

The irony was overwhelming. But, when people chatted around the office, scuttlebutt was whispered about the other two members.

Forensic Scientist, Abby Scuito

ME, Dr. Jimmy Palmer

The inseparable best friends, but ghosts of their past selves. Abby was silent and emotionless and Jimmy carried himself with poise and silence.

Both had no other friends at the agency, and never went anywhere without each other.

They had agreed, if they were to die, they would die together, so neither would be alone.

They had each other's sixes.

* * *

But, things didn't work out that way.

A few months later Abby was killed in a car crash. An accident, on the one night Jimmy had decided to work late and take the bus home.

He was heartbroken,

Alone,

Forgotten.

Suddenly each autopsy he preformed looked like someone he knew.

Gibbs.

Ducky.

Ziva.

Tony.

McGee.

…

Abby.

They haunted him. Every autopsy he preformed of them was replayed in his mind when he went to sleep. They all had died and he had not. He wanted to prevent that.

So he did the best thing he could do.

A few weeks later this came in the mail:

_Dear Dr. Palmer,_

_Your application for the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center has been accepted. Training will commence at the beginning of next month at 0500 every morning._

_Congratulations!_

_Robert H. Cummings, Director of Admissions, FLETC_

Probationary Agent Palmer began to work at NCIS.

* * *

**A few years later**

"Gear up, dead marine." A gruff voice rang through the bullpen.

"Yes boss."

"Graham, what the hell are you doing in my desk?"

"Nothing sir… err Bossman… Palmer."

Jimmy smacked him upside the back of his head.

"Get goin'!"

Graham stood up and held out a picture.

"This was in your drawer. Who is it?"

Jimmy looked at the picture and smiled. He remembered getting that picture taken.

In it was Gibbs, standing tall in the back a smirk gracing his features. Next to him was Ducky who was pointing his finger to and regaling a story of his youth in Scotland. Tony had somehow gotten Ziva to climb on his back and was skipping in a circle. McGee was showing Abby something on his phone, and Jimmy was just standing at the side smiling awkwardly in his green scrubs. It was perfect and happy.

Graham looked at his boss. "Was this your team?"

Jimmy smiled. "Yep. My family."

**The End!**

**A/N: Was it good? Need work? Should I write a sequel?**

**R/R!**


End file.
